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Back in 1990, I discovered storytelling more or less by accident. I lived in Los Angeles and I got the regular course / event catalogues from the University of Judaism. One catalog listed a full day Jewish storytelling event, a mixture of workshops and performances. I decided to go, largely because I’d had a conversation several months before (at a wedding, if I recall correctly) in which somebody had mentioned storytelling to me.

Aside from the official learning activities, I heard stories from all of the people leading the event. One of those people was Doug Lipman, who told a Jewish story called “The Sword of Wood,” which made a big impression on me. I also met a lot of people and learned that there were storytelling groups throughout the L.A. area, including one that met quite near where I lived. I took flyers about those groups. I also took a flyer about a weekend workshop Doug and Jay O’Callahan were doing a few months later somewhere in the Inland Empire and decided to sign up for it.

Not long after, I gathered my courage and went to Community Storytellers. I don’t remember if I told a story that first time there, but I know I did fairly soon and before long Community Storytellers was on my monthly calendar of things to do. I met great people there and I remember feeling relieved when I went to Doug and Jay's workshop and one of those people was also there.

The stories I had been telling up to then were largely original fairy tales and my takes on folklore. But the workshop emphasis was on personal stories. At any rate, there was one exercise that had to do with a memory about a place. And a place that I had not thought about in 20 some odd years immediately popped into my head, in amazing detail. It’s the basis for the story I’m telling in the upcoming New Year’s Eve event.

I ended up signing up for another workshop (and another and another) with Doug. His coaching style, which started out with appreciation for the teller, was very effective. And his reactions were full of unrestrained joy. His spontaneity was also a delight. When he led workshops at Wanna’s house in Pasadena, we’d all go out to lunch at Souplantation (a soup and salad bar restaurant) and he wrote a song that included lyrics about “working hard at the soup plantation.” I also remember driving home from his workshops so full of what I'd learned that I missed my exit on the freeway two nights in a row.

Overall, Doug was someone who had a huge influence on my storytelling - and my life. And I can’t count how many other storytellers I’ve met who have said the same thing. He was a special person and I will always be grateful to have known him. He died today but he will always be a part of so many of us.